Prey Digger's Romance Part 2
Part 2 of Story 2. The Story Sandstorm’s POV Fireheart and I went for a hunt by the stream just outside of camp. After we had caught some prey, we set it down in a pile and lay together in the stream bed, the water cooling us off on what was predicted to be the last warm day for a while, because leaf-bare was arriving soon. “Hey, I have some bad news,” Fireheart murmured, bumping me with his paw. I perked my head up. “Do you smell anything? I’m so hungry!” “No, I don’t smell anything.” “Oh.” “I’ve just been so busy with New Directions that I don’t think I’ll be able to gather leaves in the tree by the nursery with you.” I blinked in surprise, which quickly turned to anger. “Why are we never the ones to get a break?” “It’s going to be okay, Sandstorm,” he purred. “No, it’s not! I want you to help build the nest with me! I want our own place to raise kits! I deserve it!” I leapt out of the stream. “You know, we give and give. You think those other queens care that I’ve tried so hard to have kits even before they ever had the thought in their minds? Or do you think those apprentices care that we go with so little because you spend all your time creating dance routines? When does anyone start giving back?” Fireheart’s POV Still upset over Sandstorm’s outburst, I walked past Yellowfang’s den to find Onestar there, sweeping the blood away with his tail. “I thought you told Yellowfang to clean that up herself,” I meowed. “Spottedleaf told me that, apparently, Yellowfang was having bone problems, and that she didn’t blackmail her to say that,” spat Onestar. “Is there any problem with me taking over Barley’s job?” I asked. “And possibly getting some of your moss in return?” Onestar looked up at me, seeming happy for the first time ever. Featherpaw’s POV “Praise StarClan Club is now in session.” I blinked at the council of Cheerios before me, all with the fur on the tips of their tails ceremoniously clawed off to show they were a follower of Yellowfang. “Since the fine details of the warrior code say we have to let anyone join the club,” continued Squirrelpaw, “we’re welcoming a new member: Featherpaw.” “Where are all the toms?” I asked. I felt uncomfortable, being the only non-Cheerio in the training hollow. “Back at camp,” she spat. “The first half of the meeting, we separate, then we join together to share our faith.” Crowpaw’s POV I was still on the fence about the Praise StarClan Club. I only joined so that Squirrelpaw remained interested in me. Still, it’s a nice way for us toms to come together and talk about relationship and faith issues. “I think I’m going to kill myself,” squeaked Reedpaw, a new nerdy apprentice. “I’m serious. We’ve been pressured that now’s the time to figure out all that stuff about mating and who we like. How am I supposed to be surrounded by those good-looking Cheerios and not do anything about it?” “Are you kidding me?” cut in Bramblepaw. “Those Cheerios are unbelievable. I saw Leafpaw practicing the other day—I swear, those routines are made to make us want to be their mates.” Featherpaw’s POV “StarClan bless Yellowfang for teaching us the right way to interact with toms,” preached Squirrelpaw. “Remember the power motto, she-cats.” “It’s all about the teasing and not about the pleasing,” the other Cheerios joined in, jumping into one of their routines. I turned my head away, wishing Crowpaw could see his perfect future mate now. Crowpaw’s POV One of the Cheerios appeared at the tunnel and said it was time for us to go to the training hollow. There, I was surprised to see that, among the usual Cheerios, there was Featherpaw, whose face brightened up when she saw me. Squirrelpaw was using the old balloon blow-upper that some Twoleg had left in the woods a long time ago to blow up several balloons. I groaned, remembering the exercise; basically, everyone pairs up, and each set of partners puts the balloon between them. You can be “affectionate” and stuff, but if you get too close, the balloon pops and “makes StarClan cry,” as Squirrelpaw put it. As I smiled at Squirrelpaw, a little uncomfortable, I looked to see that Featherpaw was paired up with Reedpaw. She didn’t look too happy about it. “You enchant me,” he purred, causing Featherpaw to look away with disgust. A little ways away, Bramblepaw and Leafpaw were paired up. Leafpaw was yowling, “Stop it!” as Bramblepaw kept trying to maniacally lick her face without popping the balloon. Pop! “Crowpaw!” “I’m sorry, Squirrelpaw!” I cried, feeling myself grow warm under my fur in embarrassment. “When I was licking you, my tooth must have snagged or something—” “This is a joke.” Featherpaw stepped away from Reedpaw as everyone fell silent. “As you know, Special Guard toms, I tend to get tripped and spat at by you plenty of times, so I spend a lot of my time talking to Spottedleaf, and she has some interesting things to say about this club. Did you know that studies by various medicine cats have shown that Praise StarClan Clubs don’t actually help? We can’t just try and block out all we face everyday. As soon as we’re told that we can’t compromise with how our bodies work, we act out. The only way to deal with what we’re feeling is to be prepared.” “Who asked you to speak out?” snarled Squirrelpaw. Featherpaw ignored her and looked at me. “You want to know a dirty little secret that none of them want you to know? She-cats want mates just as much as toms do.” She sprinted out of the training hollow, leaving us all in shock. Well, almost all of us. “Is…is that accurate?” asked Reedpaw. Spottedleaf’s POV I had just returned from my usual late-night collecting of herbs to find Fireheart resorting some herbs that I had meant to clean up before I left. “Fireheart?” He jumped, causing the herbs to scatter once again. “Spottedleaf? What are you doing here this late?” “Um, it’s my den, Fireheart.” I smiled. “Oh, right, sorry.” “I was just out collecting herbs. Are you filling in for Barley or something?” “No, of course not—” “Well, you kind of look like one,” I meowed, smiling again, “cleaning my den with ruffled fur.” This time, he smiled back. “Yeah, Sandstorm and I want to build our own nest for our kits, and Onestar will give me that really soft moss that only he’s allowed to use. I’m…really embarrassed.” He sighed. “Would you mind keeping this between us?” “Not at all,” I replied, nodding. “Your secret’s safe with me.” “Thank you,” he purred. There went my heart again. “Do you, um, need any help?” “No, I think I’m fine.” “Really? Because I’m the only one who knows how those herbs are supposed to go, and I can see you’ve used mouse bile to clean the dirt away, which isn’t such a great idea because now it’s going to smell.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Alright, you can help.” I went over to sort the herbs as he brushed away some of the mouse bile with some low-quality moss. “I think it’s really nice of you to be doing this for something you want,” I remarked. He turned to me. “Let’s make a deal. You’re helping me with this, so how about I help you with one of your problems?” “Oh, I, um, I don’t have a problem,” I murmured, looking down at the herbs. “You’ve been straightening that pile of perfectly sorted herbs for StarClan knows how long,” he pointed out. “Well, I have a little trouble with messes, but it’s not like a…really bad…” I drifted off when I saw him look at me with those adorable eyes and knowing smile. I sighed. “Okay, when I was a kit, my dream was go to a Twoleg farm.” Once again, he let out that chuckle that made my heart race, then nodded for me to go on. “So, the day before I was to have my medicine cat apprentice ceremony—I had already been chosen and everything—I was allowed to go to a farm just outside of the territory with my family. So after we looked around and saw all the animals…” I gulped. “My twin brother pushed me into the cow pen. And I’ve never really been able to get over the…the smell.” “Have you thought about seeing someone about that?” he asked. “Oh, no, it’s completely manageable,” I assured him. “I just wash myself a lot and…and that sort of thing…” “I want to try…” He ran his paw along the ground, dust sticking to the pads. “…a little experiment.” “No, no,” I murmured. “I’m not really comfortable with…” He gently placed his paw on my nose. “That.” I stared cross-eyed at the clump of dirt my face had made contact with. But instead of panicking like I usually do, I was completely fine somehow, because right there in front of me was the tom I knew my heart would break over sooner or later. I knew it well, so why did he bring so much comfort to me? Blank-faced, he wiped the dust away with the back of his paw. “There. That was ten seconds.” I blinked. “You should, um, go now. I need my sleep.” He nodded slowly, and before I knew it, he was out of the den. Before I went to my nest in the back, I saw a large figure watching me and him. Tigerclaw. Featherpaw’s POV “Glee Club is now in session!” I announced to the other apprentices at the Carrionplace, mimicking Squirrelpaw’s leadership of the Praise StarClan Club. “Where’s Fireheart?” asked Ravenpaw. “Fireheart’s not coming,” I replied briskly. “I got one of the younger apprentices to ask him for help with training exercises.” “I’m so sick of hearing you squawk, Tom-paws,” groaned Hollypaw, using that hateful term that had been circulating around the Clan. “Let her talk.” Crowpaw nodded at me to continue. Flashing a smile of gratitude at him, I turned to the rest of the apprentices. “I had another idea for the assembly.” “May I again stress my reluctance in this attempted suicide?” remarked Ravenpaw. “They’re not going to kill us,” I reassured him, “because we’re going to give them what they want.” “Blood?” asked Stormpaw. “Better,” I replied brightly. “Mating.” Fireheart’s POV “Silence, cats, silence,” Onestar bellowed to the already-silent crowd of warriors, apprentices, and other cats. “First, an announcement: the dirtplace needs to be cleaned. We are fixing the problem, but until then, there will be no excuse for soiling the main camp. And now, here is Fireheart.” “Yay, Glee!” shouted Spottedleaf as I took Onestar’s place in the center of the training hollow. “Hello,” I greeted warmly to the rest of McKinleyClan. “Back when I was an apprentice, Glee Club ruled this place, and we’re on our way back.” I ignored Yellowfang’s snickering among the cats. “We need some recruits to join the party. Now, I can tell you all how great New Directions is, but I’m going to let some friends of mine show you.” Click http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HOWJeYOyUT4 to see New Directions perform “Push It.” Be warned, it’s a little…suggestive. “Yes!” cried Reedpaw when the performance was over. Before I knew it, the entire training hollow with filled with the cheers and yowls of the apprentices. “Follow me, Flame Shoe,” a mocking voice snarled behind me. I turned around and wasn’t surprised to see Yellowfang and Onestar standing over me. We slipped away from the crowd quietly. I was so angry at New Directions that I didn’t notice we had reached Onestar’s den. “Let me be the first to break the silence,” meowed Yellowfang. “That was the most offensive thing I have ever seen in my life, and that includes the short-lived Kit Choir Club’s production of Hair.” “You wouldn’t believe how many glares I got from the warriors during the performance,” growled Onestar. “They’re blaming me for this!” “I really don’t know what to say,” I murmured truthfully. “Well, let me help you,” hissed Yellowfang. “My first thought was that your apprentices should be exiled. But you’re the one to blame. I demand that you be exiled from this Clan and Glee Club be disbanded.” “Now, hold on, Yellowfang,” cut in Onestar. “The issue is about content. Those ‘gleeks’ or whatever you call them—” “They’re not gleeks yet,” I muttered. “—have talent, and I have never seen the apprentices this excited before. I decided that you should use the list of approved songs that I originally had for Darkstripe’s Glee Club.” “But all those songs have either ‘StarClan’ or ‘balloons’ in the title,” I protested. “But they’re also about the warrior code!” exclaimed Onestar. “New Directions needs a new look and new dance routines! Yellowfang, I would like you to allow the Glee Club to use some of the Cheerios’ signature dance moves.” “I will not stand for this!” she yowled. “Oh, Yellowfang.” Onestar closed his eyes and shook his head. “Your Cheerios routines are as good as any other. You shouldn’t bother claiming them as your own.” Once again, as I left Onestar’s den, I couldn’t tell if I was relieved or angry. But something boiled inside of me when I saw Featherpaw waiting outside. “Fireheart, I’m so sorry,” she began. “Do you understand what you did today?” I spat. “You lied to me, and you ruined our chances! No parent or mentor in their right mind is going to let their kit or apprentice join Glee Club now. Oh, and we have a list of approved songs.” “What? You mean the songs about balloons?” “Look, I know you were trying to help New Directions, and I understand why you did what you did, but I don’t like the way you did it.” Spottedleaf’s POV I vigorously cleaned the starling I was eating before taking a bite out of it. Clean, bite, clean, bite. That’s been my eating cycle since I was an apprentice. “Hello, Spottedleaf.” I didn’t look up, not wanting to see Tigerclaw’s dirty face. “There’s a tulip grove on the border of Twolegplace. You probably know that. I was thinking we could go hunting around there. I bet it smells really nice.” “You know, that’s really sweet of you, Tigerclaw, but I have the sniffles,” I lied, still not looking up. He sighed. “What are you doing? Chasing a tom that already has a mate, when you’re a medicine cat? I’m the right tom for you, Spottedleaf. I won’t be your mate or get in the way of your medicine cat duties, because I know that’s against the warrior code. But I’ll be there for you whenever you need me. There are worse toms, and in this Clan, you’re not going to get a whole lot better.” Featherpaw’s POV I hit the piano key a few times with my paw. “Okay, try that.” “La,” sang Crowpaw, hitting the note perfectly while trying to shake away the flies that always flew around Carrionplace. “Good, let’s try the next one.” I hit the next higher key. “La,” he sang again, barely flinching as he sang even higher. “That’s really great! For a baritone, it’s usually really hard to sing that high. How about we start from the bottom again and go back towards the top?” “Uh, actually, could we take a break?” he asked. “Singing kind of makes me hungry.” “Sure, I already planned for that.” I gestured with my tail towards the blanket and miniature fresh-kill pile I had set out before he arrived at the dump. “Cool, I was wondering what that was all about.” “You want to sit?” “Yeah, of course.” As we sat down on the blanket next to each other, I explained, “I was wondering why you asked me to help you with your singing. You kicked butt at the assembly.” “Well, I figured this would be my one chance to be as good as you,” he shrugged nonchalantly. My paw froze in midair, about to grab a mouse. “You think I’m good?” “Well, when I first joined, I thought you were kind of insane. You talk more than you should, and to be honest, I made sure I was sleeping on the other side of the apprentices’ den as you.” I blinked, a little hurt. “But then I heard you sing. I don’t know how to say this, but it touched something in me.” He put his paw to his chest. “Right here.” I smiled. “Your heart’s on the other side of your chest.” I nudged it over with my nose, brushing her fur. “Oh.” He looked down at me. “It’s beating really hard.” An awkward silence followed. Then he blinked and whispered, “You’re really cool, Featherpaw.” “You want a mouse?” I mumbled, backing away so I wouldn’t lose control of myself. “Sure.” He seemed a little taken aback as I placed one in front of him. “That stuff you said at the Praise StarClan Club was really cool.” I pretended to ignore him, wishing I knew what he was trying to say. Was he even trying to say anything at all? And toms said that she-cats were confusing! “Well, praise StarClan, I guess,” I giggled, holding up my mouse by the tail. He raised his paws up in the air. “Praise StarClan!” he bellowed before tumbling backwards. I stifled a giggle as he got back up with a goofy expression on his face. For a few moments, the only sounds were of us chewing on our mice. Then he looked up and meowed, “You’ve got a bit of mouse tail stuck to your muzzle.” A little embarrassed, I swiped my tongue over my muzzle. “Got it?” “No, it’s still there,” he murmured, squinting his beautiful eyes. “I got it.” He took a step forward and gingerly licked the mouse tail off. We stared at each other, the world melting around us. “You know, you can stay this close to me if you want to,” a voice whispered. It took me a few seconds to realize it was mine. “I want to,” he whispered back. We curled up into a perfect circle of light gray and dark gray. He pressed his muzzle to mine again, and I closed my eyes, forgetting everything: Fireheart’s disappointed face, Squirrelpaw calling me Tom-paws, Hollypaw and pretty much everyone else telling me to stop squawking. That didn’t matter anymore; what mattered was Crowpaw, with his muzzle pressed to mine, and no one else… Then, suddenly, he pulled away, a mixture of shock and realization on his face. “Did I do something wrong?” I asked frantically. “No, no,” he stammered, looking as uncomfortable as I felt a few moments ago—or was it days ago? “I just have to go. Please, don’t tell anyone about this.” He ran out of the Carrionplace faster than I had ever seen him in Special Guard training. With nothing else to do and nowhere to go, I buried my face in my tail, more lost than ever before. Sandstorm’s POV “I don’t want my kits to grow extra legs because I live in squalor,” I directed Littlemouse, the recently-named medicine cat apprentice, as he examined my belly, “so I want you to run any and all tests you have.” “Trust me, you’re clear,” he meowed quickly. “Are you sure?” “Positive.” “How many are there?” I asked excitedly. “How many toms and how many she-cats?” Littlemouse sat down and sighed. “I don’t know quite how to put this…there are no kits.” I sat up. “Did it fall out?” He laughed quickly, then grew serious when he saw my face. “You’re not pregnant.” “But I gained a pound!” I mewed exasperatedly. “That’s probably from eating,” he explained. “I think I felt a bird bone in there that you must have swallowed whole. You’re having a hysterical pregnancy; it’s when you want kits so badly, your body mimics the symptoms.” Hysterical pregnancy? Did such a thing even exist? What was I going to tell Fireheart? Littlemouse patted my paw with his own. “If you’re meant to have kits, it’ll happen.” In response, I fell back onto the floor, exhausted from the extra pseudo-kit pound I was carrying around. Squirrelpaw’s POV “I have to say, I’m really surprised you three are trying out,” remarked Fireheart. “As you may have heard, seeing as you’re his mentor, Crowpaw and I have been a couple for a while now,” I explained, a little grossed out by the fact that Leafpaw, Sorrelpaw, and I were trying out for the Glee Club. Not only that, but we were trying out for the Glee Club in Carrionplace. Did we really have to practice here everyday if we got in? “What kind of future mate would I be if I didn’t support him?” I added. “Well, let’s see what you’ve got.” Click http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=afJYUwxG3tY to see Squirrelpaw, Leafpaw, and Sorrelpaw perform “Say a Little Prayer.” Yellowfang’s POV “So let me get this straight,” I hissed, glad to finally be having a meeting back in my own den. “You three are joining Glee Club?” “We’re sorry, Yellowfang,” Squirrelpaw spoke for herself and the other two Cheerios. “But there is something going on between Crowpaw and that thing. Did you see how it looked at him with its eyes? Please don’t kick us off the Cheerios.” “Don’t cry in front of my,” I snarled. “I don’t want to hear, I don’t want to see it. You know, Squirrelpaw, when I first saw you at your apprentice ceremony, I was reminded of a young Yellowfang, though your orange fur coloring is way off. Perhaps that’s why Onestar chose me to be your mentor. But it wasn’t until this very moment that I realized how alike we truly are. You three are going to be my spies. We’re going to bring this club down from within.” As Leafpaw and Sorrelpaw waved their slightly shaved tails in victory, Squirrelpaw added to my spiel, “And I’m going to get my future mate back.” “I don’t care so much about that,” I told her, putting her back in her place. Fireheart’s POV “Hey, Spottedleaf!” I found her just outside of her den, grooming herself thoroughly. “Onestar gave me more moss than I needed to build Sandstorm’s nest, and I figured I could use it for cleaning. What do you say? Dirtplace, just after moonhigh?” “Fireheart, what are we doing?” she asked. I narrowed my eyes, confused. “You’re having kits,” she continued. “I’m a medicine cat. And anyway, I’m going hunting that night.” “That’s great,” I replied. “Can I come with you?” She shook her head. “You’re missing the point. I’m going to the tulip garden with Tigerclaw, who at least doesn’t have a mate to look after.” “Oh,” I murmured, realizing what she meant. “Well, take care, I guess.” That night, I visited Sandstorm in the warriors’ den; since she wasn’t too far along with the kits, she was only given light warrior duties and not a full queen. “There you are,” she purred, “all tired from a long day of being a warrior.” “I thought you’d be asleep by now,” I meowed. “Well, I wanted to talk to you about something, so I stayed awake and saved you some of the fresh-kill I was eating.” She pushed a half-eaten sparrow towards me. “Sandstorm, that’s so thoughtful,” I mewed, sitting down. “You know, I’ve been working so hard lately, all for you and that little kit or kits on the way. I hoped you know that, and now I’m pretty convinced.” “Yeah,” she mumbled, nodding in agreement. “I do know.” “I’m sorry, what was it you were going to talk about?” “I went to the medicine cat’s den today.” “And?” “And…it’s one kit. A tom.” I blinked. Oh my StarClan…I was going to have a son! In joy, I touched the top of Sandstorm’s head with my nose. “That’s so great!” “I want you to give up working Barley’s job,” she blurted out. “What?” “We don’t need a new nest. We can use the materials we have now and redecorate one of the old ones. It’s a compromise that I want.” “Really?” “Yes, really. The only thing I want to work on right now is us.” Featherpaw’s POV “You’re giving Squirrelpaw the solo on ‘Don’t Stop Believing?’” I repeated what Fireheart had told me in shock. “That’s my solo!” “You made this happen, Featherpaw,” Fireheart explained. “You’re the one who came up with that explicit dance at the assembly. Squirrelpaw’s audition song was on the approved list, and she’s a great singer.” “You’re punishing me,” I realized. “Contrary to your belief, it’s not all about you,” he hissed back. Then his gaze softened. “Or, as I realized, it’s not all about me. I’m as responsible for what you did at that assembly as you are. I shouldn’t have pushed disco so hard. Back when I sang it, disco revival was in its glory days, just like the Glee Club; it was cool, and it was fun. That’s what Glee is supposed to be about. If it’s going to work, we’re both going to have to change how our minds work. You can’t always be the star, but I promise to do my best to make sure you’re having fun. This is a good thing, Featherpaw; we’re on our way.” “Can I use the Carrionplace to practice later today?” I asked. “The other apprentices want me to stop singing in the den.” “Sure,” he sighed as he left to go on a patrol. Click http://www.indavideo.hu/video/Glee_-_Take_a_Bow/ to see Featherpaw, Hollypaw, and Mothpaw sing “Take a Bow.”